


blessing within misfortune

by stolashoots



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Edo Period, M/M, Mild Gore, Smut, pokemon gods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:28:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27071236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stolashoots/pseuds/stolashoots
Summary: “This rock?” Akagi makes a kicking action, though his bare, dirty foot doesn’t connect. “Giratina dropped it from the sky. I assume it was aiming for Arceus’ tree, but it missed. Some imbecile decreed it to be a blessing since no one was squashed.”“You’re telling me that the Chosen has a massive, gorgeous tree that symbolizes the life of this forest and everything within it, and the Other has a rock. Why did you bring me here and not, say, your living place?”“I hate this rock. I hate this rock more than I have ever hated anything else, including my shitty parents.” Akagi’s face twists in disgust. “And if I am to see this fucking rock every day until Giratina drags me to the depths of Hell, I would prefer to have at least one good memory regarding it.”-or, in which Sakaki and Akagi desecrate a shrine
Relationships: Akagi | Cyrus/Sakaki | Giovanni
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	blessing within misfortune

**Author's Note:**

  * For [empiricyakuza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/empiricyakuza/gifts).



> Note: most names are using the jp translations
> 
> Akagi - Cyrus  
> Sakaki - Giovanni  
> Athena - Ariana  
> Shirona - Cynthia

The procession moves through Ilex Forest, slow yet steady, step by step. Wooden _geta_ and bare feet follow the worn dirt path. On either side, long candles melt down into the damp leaves and grass while glowing litwick float along, attracted to the children but kept away by the presence of adults. Neither are necessary, not when sunlight trickles down through the thick canopy, but the night is young and the sun will soon sink into the horizon.

Thick, vibrant fabrics keep the winter chill from invading, and the physical exertion of walking in long kimonos while carrying baskets of wood, prepared dishes, and little ones heat their skin. Sakaki shuffles his own bundle of joy in his arms.

The boy, his cheeks as rosy as his hair, caused a fuss after being placed in the woven basket filled with dried flowers and would not cease whining until his parent plucked him up. The spoiled prince deserves to cry himself to sleep, but Athena felt otherwise and shoved their son into Sakaki’s arms.

_It’s tradition_ , Sakaki hissed.

_Silence is tradition_ , Athena replied.

The five other newborns and parents, ordered behind Sakaki and Athena by weeks since birth, have all kept their babies hushed and stilled, but the others are all commoners and that is to be expected of them. People such as Sakaki have no fear of the Gods.

The boy delights in being held, and it quietly gurgles into Sakaki’s ear while drooling against the baby-blue ice-flower patterned against his chest. Black eyes stretched wide open flick back and forth as the boy takes in the outdoors for the first time. Persian rumbles, catching the boy’s attention, and he kicks in happiness before promptly becoming distracted by the furret and aipom hopping across branches up above.

Sakaki grins. After tonight, he will finally take down the blankets obscuring the windows. He will never again have to toss a breathable sheet over the boy’s face every time they need to leave the house. Sakaki aches to teach his son of the natural world and the pokemon that surround them. The boy has missed the showers and flowers of spring, the golden wheat and rice patties of summer, and the kaleidoscope of colors of autumn. All he has ever known is his parent’s small room and any item which can be brought inside.

_Soon_ , Sakaki whispers as he uses his sleeve to wipe away trailing spit bubbles on the boy’s chin. He and Athena will welcome their child into the New Year and name him. The boy will finally be allowed to experience life.

The older children grow restless with the seemingly endless walk. Sakaki hears quiet giggles and soft murmurs behind him. Athena huffs and makes a show of rolling her eyes, her lips pressed tight into a line to hide her amusement at their antics.

There is no need to chastise, they have already reached the shine. Kids scamper forward, laughing and racing past Sakaki and Athena, into the waiting arms of Shirona. Shirona, golden hair and golden crown of the Creator glinting in the flickering light of the prepared fire, glows like a goddess in her pure white kimono and back _obi_. Her smile is the rising of the sun during the darkness of night. She opens her arms and welcomes the party and its stragglers into the clearing.

The children back away from Shirona, taking care to avoid the designs drawn in the grass using stones and to distance themselves from Akagi lurking next to the shrine, and return to the sides of their parents.

Athena frees the boy from Sakaki’s arms to return their son into the basket. In her moment of distraction, Sakaki takes a second to glance Akagi over. The man looks like shit, with his sunken cheeks and darken eyes, but that is nothing new. The traditional kimono, black to Shirona’s white, white to Shirona’s black, hangs off his bony shoulders and the dark _hakama_ drags in the dirt, limp.

It’s been years, but Akagi seems to have aged by decades. Sakaki catches Akagi’s empty, expressionless eyes, searching for any spark of recognition, any proof that this is the same man he once knew. Akagi breaks eye contact first and glides over to Shirona’s apprentice, Hikari. He positions himself to face away from Sakaki after that.

“That’s him, isn’t it?”

Athena rests her hand on Sakaki’s arm, her head tilted in a question. Sakaki shakes his head, _not now_ , and touches above the back of her _obi_ , between her shoulders. He guides her to follow the other parents. Athena finds the stone with their family crest etched into it. Obedient as ever, persian lays down near Sakaki’s feet where it won’t get in the way.

Shirona begins with the youngest baby first. Athena and Sakaki can’t look away from their precious son, both giving the other parents privacy of the moment while also imprinting the memory of the boy’s innocence and wonder into their minds.

Five times Shirona speaks and five names are uttered for the first time in front of an outsider. _Hibiki, Kris, Kotone, Satoshi, Leaf_. The boy’s year-mates. None of the Nameless passed away this year, Acreus be blessed, not even little Leaf who caught a nasty cough a month after birth or Satoshi who never cries nor speaks in babble.

Shirona stands before them. She tucks her hair behind her ear and kneels to kiss the boy on his forehead, careful of the Creator’s crown. She pulls the boy into her arms and stands.

“Speak his name.”

Sakaki and Athena exchange a glance. Athena nods and takes the lead.

“Silver.”

Shirona hums and nods. Her right pinky finger, blackened from the soot of a fire, draws the sign of the Creator onto the forehead. “Welcome to the world, Silver. May your first year be blessed and your life lived long.”

She returns Silver to the basket and moves to the shrine to stand between Akagi and Hikari. Shirona and her apprentice bow once, and then she addresses the crowd. “Thank you, everyone, for this peaceful and bountiful year. The Creator smiles upon us all. Please, enjoy the last few hours of the year and welcome the next with smiles and happy memories.”

Athena sighs and slumps her shoulders, offering Sakaki a tired smile. “Now the real work begins,” she jokes. Sakaki takes the boy, Silver, in his arms while Athena moves the basket to the side of the clearing. During this (perhaps last) moment of freedom, he clicks his tongue and instructs persian to return home. The pokemon will only get caught under feet once the merriment starts and drinks are poured. It lazily blinks up at him with giant yellow eyes before slinking off into the woods.

Athena returns with a gaggle of distant family members who have yet to meet Silver. The parents force smiles and entertain everyone who wishes to touch Silver’s chubby hand and offer a small blessing for his future. Unlike other secular families, Sakaki’s parents are leaders of the town, and so non-relatives also wish to shuffle close and bask in the presence of power. Silver is young, but he is already a commodity in the eyes of the greedy.

After playing nice for far too long, Silver begins to squirm and whine in Athena’s arms. The baby is transferred to Sakaki and Athena waves them away, “I’ll keep them busy, go calm him.”

Sakaki weaves his way through the townsfolk gathering to watch Hikari’s traditional dance, enchanted by the flawless beauty of youth. Children hand out bread buns and small sugary sweets, pilfering a few bites too many as ‘payment’ when no one is looking. An elderly woman in a deep pink kimono holds a bottle of local rice saki and pours for anyone who asks. Someone tosses firewood into the fire pit, growing it until the flames are as tall as a man.

Silver kicks him the entire way. Sakaki shushes his son but doesn’t force it; he can’t blame Silver for getting upset at all of the sudden, unfamiliar sights and sounds. He should have been put to bed hours ago. It will take a full week before he and Athena manage to fix Silver’s sleep schedule after this outing.

“Nhga! Mhga!” Silver demands in the strange language of babies, shoving his tiny fist down and wiggling his bare toes.

“You won’t like this,” Sakaki warns but kneels to place Silver on the ground. Silver wrinkles his face at the cold ground. He looks at the dirt to either side of him before dragging a finger in it and puts dirt into his mouth. “Smart. That taste better than your mother’s milk? I’ll make sure to tell her; she’ll be thrilled to stop nursing you.” Silver, already distracted, wobbles to his feet. Walking is still a novelty, and so Silver (figuratively) eats dirt a few times until he’s able to find his balance in the baby kimono.

The crowd of townspeople cheers. Sakaki glances over and sees movement. Hikari’s dance to please the Creator has ended, and now the common folk can join and let loose.

Sakaki looks away and-

Silver’s gone. Of course. Sakaki wasn’t paying attention for no more than a minute and Silver has vanished. He groans and stands, suddenly regretting sending persian off when the pokemon could have been another set of eyes on Silver.

Sakaki checks the fire pit first because that seems the most dangerous place for Silver to waddle off to. Shirona is poking the embers with a chunk of wood and perks up when Sakaki draws close. There’s no time to get into a conversation, and Sakaki really isn’t mentally prepared to deal with the woman right now. And he can’t afford to get drunk just to chat Shirona up.

He turns and moves to find Athena. She is still surrounded by family and friends. Sakaki ducks away before she spots him and notices Silver isn’t in sight.

Circling the crowd, Sakaki scans the edges of the clearing, searching for movement in the darkness where the firelight is obscured.

A spirit stands amongst the trees, deathly white skin contrasted against the inky backdrop. Sakaki has always considered Akagi to be closer to a figure in a painting than a human being. Not because Akagi is beautiful or heavenly like an angel, but because he is otherworldly with his sharp joints and expressionless stare. It didn’t surprise Sakaki for even a second when he learned Akagi was chosen by the Other. Horrified, but not shocked.

Akagi’s head is tilted up to peer at the stars, exposing the jut of his Adam’s apple. Sakaki is close enough that he can see the way the black kimono and _hakama_ are wrinkled and pattern with fine fur sheddings. While Shirona prides herself and her duty as the Creator’s chosen, Akagi’s position leaves him ostracized and avoided. The bastard probably loves it, not required to appear immaculate because no one will bother to study him.

Not like the way Sakaki studies him, wanting to see every imperfection.

Akagi shifts, twisting his head down to look at the toddler clinging to his _hakama_. He glances at Sakaki when Sakaki hisses his son’s name, then squats down. He’s still taller than Silver. His hands, larger than Silver’s small face, gently pry Silver’s hands off of him.

Sakaki saunters over, leisurely and relaxed in hopes of not spooking Akagi like a wild deerling. “Thanks for catching him; I was worried he’d run off and be eaten by a haxorus.”

“It can walk.” This is the first time Sakaki has heard Akagi speak since before, and it is just as monotone and empty as he remembers.

“His name is Silver, and he’s a baby, not an ‘it.’ Come on, I know you’re separated from civilization and all that, but you have to know what a baby is, Akagi.” The man recoils at his name and shoots Sakaki a nasty look.

“I’m forced along to these new year blessings every year. I know what a baby is.” Akagi licks his thumb and scrubs the symbol of the Creator off of Silver’s forehead. Athena would disapprove at the sacrilegious act, but she isn’t here and Sakaki is too busy wondering how many Nameless Akagi has seen but barred from blessing. Or holding. Or even seeing closer than from two meters away.

Sakaki steps closer and picks Silver up by his armpits. “Here. Say hi to Silver.”

Akagi does not say hi to Silver. Akagi steps back. “It’s your son, correct? What month was it born in?”

“No, I kidnapped a random kid that has my eyes and Athena’s hair and am now forcing it upon you. February.”

Akagi tilts his head just a smudge and his nostrils flare. No doubt he is trying to calculate where and when Sakaki and Athena were when they performed the act that produced a human being. Silver kicks the air and moans. Sakaki holds his son against his chest and pats his back until he quiets.

Akagi is already floating away, his _hakama_ dragging on the ground. Fuck. This wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go. Sakaki has imagined their reunion many a night, and none of them ended with Akagi just walking off.

“Good evening, Sakaki. Was that Akagi just-“ Sakaki whirls around shoves Silver into Shirona’s arms.

He immediately takes Silver back. “I am so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” Sakaki glances over his shoulder. He can no longer see Akagi, the man already melting between the trees.

“Sakaki.” He turns to Shirona. “No one should be alone tonight, including the Other’s Chosen. I’ll keep Athena company and help with Silver; I suspect she will require assistance depicting Silver’s true name, considering her husband,” Shirona hides a diabolical smirk behind her hand, “is more inclined to the Other instead of the Creator.”

Sakaki flushes. How’d she find out? Was he that obvious with his pining? Athena is aware, but Sakaki only agreed to their arranged marriage because she accepted that she will never be his only. Akagi might have mentioned it to Shirona. He was close to her even before being Chosen.

She clicks her tongue. “If you linger any longer, you’ll lose him. Go. I’ll escort Athena home.” They exchange Silver.

“Thank you, Shirona. I, I owe you.”

“Please be kind to him. I consider Akagi to be a very good friend of mine and I’d hate to see him hurting because of your selfishness.” She smiles around the biting words and pets down Silver’s cowlick. “A certain weavile will guide you, I believe.”

When Sakaki turns again, he sees the tuft of scarlet feathers poking up amongst the grasses. He gives Shirona another thankful nod before rushing over to it. Akagi’s partner pokemon leaps to its feet and darts into the forest.

Night has taken over and the trees are thick enough to block out the firelight around the shrine. Sakaki follows after glinting claws and shuffling leaves and the occasional chatter. He expects to be lead through bushes and around trees, but weavile sticks to a known path Sakaki is unable to recognize in the darkness, moving swift and straight as it encourages Sakaki onwards.

They race through the forest for hours or a few minutes, all of it a blur in Sakaki’s mind as his heart pounds in his ears. He doesn’t want to hope. Sakaki has dreamed for years now, only to awaken in an empty bed, the memory of all-consuming warmth and whispers of promises sealed with a kiss fading with the rising sun. He doesn’t know how much longer he can remain in this limbo, yearning for what he may never taste again, before he loses all sanity.

And then Sakaki sees him, surrounded by the eerie glow of dancing lampents. For a fraction of a second, he becomes stiff with dread at the omens of death so close to Akagi, so close to himself, and he fears that soon souls will be coaxed from their bodies and devoured.

Akagi stops walking as weavile scurries to him. The pokemon stands on its hind legs and tugs at his _hakama_ , feathers tilted down as it chips. Akagi drops a hand to his side and allows the weavile to grasp it as a child might with its parent. Akagi glances over his shoulder and Sakaki thinks he can see the man’s lips twitched up in amusement, but then Akagi begins moving forward again and Sakaki must focus to keep up.

The forest thins and they come to a cabin. Weavile separates from Akagi and canters off into the woods, howling. The ghosts float up, their candle flames dying out or snuffed with the breeze, leaving Sakaki and Akagi in darkness. Akagi pauses long enough to allow Sakaki to reach his side. He begins again, following a dirt path among grass that Sakaki can see, now that his eyes have adjusted to the dark.

They move around the cabin, Sakaki focused on the pale strip of skin between the collar of Akagi’s kimono and his spiky hair. He can see a vertebra causing the skin to stretch around it. He wants it in his mouth.

So he does.

Sakaki hugs Akagi from behind, effectively ending all progress. He curls his fingers in the front of the black kimono and drags Akagi close until they’re pressed front to back. Sakaki buries his face into the unnatural blue hair and breathes in the scent of wood smoke and pokemon and Akagi. It’s like a dizzy punch to the gut. Sakaki pulls away before he devolves into a begging mess.

Instead, he puts his lips against Akagi’s spine and nips the skin, then soothes over the pain with a drag of his tongue and a kiss.

Akagi elbows him in the gut and steps out of his hold while Sakaki struggles to recover. “Just a bit further.” Akagi’s eyes crinkle in mirth at Sakaki’s suffering. He takes Sakaki’s hand in his and tugs him along until they’re side by side.

As promised, a few minutes later they reach what must be the largest tree Sakaki has ever witnessed. It’s thicker than an adult man is tall and covered with gnarled knots bigger than Sakaki’s head. The thick segments of bark are like a painting of the turbulent sea, swirls and sudden curves cutting into straight, orderly lines. Sakaki cranes his neck up to see the first signs of branches, gigantic arms hidden by the canopy of average-sized trees. Thousands of bug cocoons cling to the branches. Metapods and swadloon are obscured against colonies of burmy and wormadam. Pineco, seedot, cherubi, and applin hang like plump, succulent fruit. Spinark and joltick use their pinchers to organize sticky bundles of silcoon and cascoons. Even in the deep of winter, the flowers of bellossoms, skiploom, gossifleu, floette, and comfey cause the tree to be in the height of bloom.

Akagi speaks to fill Sakaki’s awed silence. “This is the heart of the forest, the deepest part before humans began logging and infiltrating the edges to settle. Shirona claims that Arceus once shed droplets of blood across the world, and the trees they settled onto grew without limits.” He drags Sakaki closer and places a hand against the bark. “This is why your village worships the Creator rather than local deities like the majority of Japan.”

Sakaki must tear his eyes away from the splendor to focus on Akagi. His expression is almost fond, as if looking upon an old friend rather than living wood. “You mean Celebi. Ilex shrine is dedicated to Celebi.” Akagi hums in agreement. “And what of the Other?” It’s not the question Sakaki wants to ask, but now isn’t the time to demand answers out of Akagi.

“I would like to show you something else, Sakaki.” Akagi pulls away from the tree and proceeds around it. Sakaki doesn’t hide his frown at the usage of his given name, but he holds his tongue anyway.

Ten or so paces behind the tree is a large rock. Rather than smoothed over from weathering, it remains pointed with sharp edges, thrice as tall as it is long. The surface, polished to a shine, is covered with the language of the Unown. Sakaki would mistake it for a giant chunk of obsidian if not for the distance to the closest volcano and he has never seen obsidian larger than a ritual knife.

“This rock?” Akagi makes a kicking action, though his bare, dirty foot doesn’t connect. “Giratina dropped it from the sky. I assume it was aiming for Arceus’ tree, but it missed. Some imbecile decreed it to be a blessing since no one was squashed.”

“You’re telling me that the Chosen has a massive, gorgeous tree that symbolizes the life of this forest and everything within it, and the Other has a rock. Why did you bring me here and not, say, your living place?”

“I hate this rock. I hate this rock more than I have ever hated anything else, including my shitty parents.” Akagi’s face twists in disgust. “And if I am to see this fucking rock every day until Giratina drags me to the depths of Hell, I would prefer to have at least one good memory regarding it.”

“I don’t remember you being so dramatic.”

“Sakaki, you have a wife and a child. Neither of which were present last time, unless they were hiding in a closet whenever you manhandled me.”

Sakaki holds up his hands in defense. “Sorry, sorry. But you’re not going to tell me you haven’t been with anyone since then, right?” Shirona is _breathtaking_. And he assumes Akagi lives with her in the cabin.

Akagi tilts his head and squints his eyes as if analyzing a puzzle. “You are the only person I have ever felt affections towards. And considering my circumstances and lot in life, I am unlikely to ever become familiar with another. I told you this before.”

“I thought-“ Sakaki stops himself and runs a hand through his hair. Looking back, he understands that Akagi predicted this. Akagi, who pursued his own interests rather than worrying about apprenticeships. Akagi, who always kept his distance from others while Sakaki chased skirts. Akagi, who spat at traditions and didn’t give a damn if his parents found out about their relationship.

Akagi, who, in the dead of night when he thought Sakaki was asleep, would caress Sakaki’s cheek and whisper apologies into his ear. Akagi, who spoke of endless regrets, many of them revolving around allowing Sakaki to become so involved with someone who had no future. How he should have been stronger, how he shouldn’t have buckled under desire and temptation when he _knew_ that it would only cause pain for everyone.

At the time, Sakaki assumed Akagi was struggling about sharing a bed with another man, but whenever Sakaki leaned in for a kiss, Akagi always met him halfway, and whenever Sakaki pressed down onto him, Akagi always reacted positively and demanded more. And so Sakaki never questioned it because he got the pleasure his youthful body ached for and that was all that mattered.

He doesn’t know the details of what happened. One day, he and Akagi were rolling in the field of grass on a perfect evening. The next day, Akagi was gone and no one would meet Sakaki’s eyes when he begged for answers.

It wasn’t until much later, after Sakaki agreed to marry Athena, after Athena agreed to the terms Sakaki insisted on during their few precious moments of privacy, was he informed that Akagi was Chosen by the Gods.

And now, standing before the man, Sakaki wonders if Akagi always knew of the death sentence looming over him. If Akagi chose a man, chose Sakaki, to be with because that ensured he’d never be forced to leave behind a family. If Akagi was never bothered by Sakaki’s interests in women because it meant Sakaki would one day move on and forget about him.

Sakaki closes the distance between them and rests his forehead against Akagi’s. He swallows back questions and apologies; Akagi is still waiting for a response. “Thank you, for showing me all of this. I’d be honored to help you in any way I can. Tell me what you need,” he pauses for dramatics before murmuring Akagi’s true name, the one carved into his soul by the Creator that abandoned him, “ _Cyrus_.”

Akagi’s eyes widen and his pupils dilate. He grabs ahold of the front of Sakaki’s kimono pulls them flush against one another. “Say that again. Please.”

Sakaki cups his cheeks and kisses his nose. “Anything for you, _Cyrus_.”

“ _Gio_ -“ Akagi catches himself and freezes, mouth pulled in a grimace as fear and hesitation flash across his face.

“Take your time. You don’t have to say it if you’re not ready.”

“It feels wrong… To use your true name, like I will tarnish it if I speak it out loud.” Akagi admits. “Before, I did not mind because even if it was taboo, it was just a silly tradition. But now that I have become so intertwined with the Other… I fear that saying it might anger Arecus and endanger your soul.”

Sakaki closes his eyes and decides not to speak of how he’s already fucked up his chances with the Creator. He has killed, both for revenge and without reason; he has desecrated and insulted the deceased. He has broken the sanctity of marriage multiple times, some of which Athena knows of and many which she doesn’t.

Shirona, the Creator’s Chosen, understood his predicament and agreed to help his son, his Silver, shed away the misfortunes of his father and be brought into the bless’ed light. Sakaki will never learn of his son’s true name because he has already walked away from the Creator.

Nothing Akagi does or says will ever ruin Sakaki more than he has already ruined himself. He doesn’t bring this up, not out of fear of rejection, but because if Akagi of all people won’t break tradition, then he will not force it.

“Call me Sakaki, darling. It worked fine for us when we were younger.” He waits for Akagi to nod. “You okay? Still want to do this? Because I’m good with just cuddling or some shit.”

Instead of answering, Akagi wraps his arms around Sakaki and tugs the straps keeping his _hakama_ tied to his _obi_ belt. Sakaki helps to undo the final two knots, then untying the _obi_ so he can slip both garments off and toss them to the side. Akagi slides his hands up Sakaki’s chest, slipping his fingers under either side of the kimono opening, and lifting it off of his shoulders to add to the clothing pile. Sakaki deals with the undergarments, leaving him with just his _geta_ sandals, socks, and _fundoshi_.

Akagi immediately becomes distracted at the sight of bare skin. He traces his index over a large, twisted scar across Sakaki’s abdomen, gnarled punctures over his chest and midsection, three unique _bokukei_ on his left shoulder. He taps the tattoos given only as punishment. “ _Really?”_

Sakaki grins at Akagi’s exasperation. “Hey, at least I haven’t lost any of these.” He wiggles all ten fingers. “Don’t worry, they’re from other regions. No one from these parts care.” Akagi has finished his appraisal and begins pulling off his own clothing. Sakaki catches his hand. “Why’s your kimono right-over-left? Got something you need to tell me?” He hadn’t noticed before, too enthralled at seeing his old lover.

“If you are suggesting that I am dead, I am not. Shirona wears hers like this too. Please release me.”

Sakaki does so, only to grab Akagi again when he lifts his kimono. He doesn’t even know what to say; he just stares blankly at Akagi’s exposed skin. “Wh- The fuck is this?”

His once perfect, unmarred alabaster skin is now mangled with massive purple and black scar tissue. Long, thick lashes shaped like centiskorch burrowed into Akagi’s torso, crisscrossing and climbing up his shoulder. Sakaki touches it and is almost surprised when the skin doesn’t burn him.

Akagi smiles. “Shirona received a crown to represent her position. Giratina shredded my flesh and laughed at my agony.”

“Some of these are still raw.” Sakaki rubs his thumb against a sore under Akagi’s nipple. “Or scabbed. How old are they?”

“The oldest? Years. They get worse every so often. It can be hard not to pick at them.” He shrugs. Akagi smacks Sakaki’s hand before he has the chance to prod at more scars. “Sakaki, it is freezing. Please do not make me stand outside in the middle of winter, half-nude, because you want to just talk.”

“Just- just give me a little warning, okay? Is there anything else I should mentally prepare myself for?” Has Akagi become a eunuch, too? Sakaki can certainly work with that; it isn’t a problem.

Akagi makes the most dramatic eye roll Sakaki has ever seen. With a swiftness that would leave anyone impressed, Akagi yanks off his entire ensemble in a single, elegant motion and flings it all off to the side.

Sakaki takes a step back to appraise his lover. The markings continue down his thighs, but now he can see that Akagi isn’t missing any limbs or appendages. He’s too thin, more skeleton than man with the way his pelvic bones and ribs are attempting to free themselves from the sack of flesh. The odd purple and green bruises pepper his knees and shins. Akagi either forgot or didn’t bother with a _fundoshi_ , but that only means Sakaki spends no more time questioning the existence of Akagi’s genitals.

Akagi is perhaps one of the least physically attractive people Sakaki has ever had the pleasure of knowing. Over the years, Sakaki has sampled many, _many_ , kinds of individuals, both male and female, voluptuous and muscular, bodacious and underfed. Athena, the woman he made into his wife, has curves for miles and legs for days.

Akagi has high, distinct cheekbones and a long, crooked nose. His elbows should be classified as weapons, his fingers and palms calloused into tough leather. Broad shoulder, knobby knees, ears too big, lips too thin and cracked. The scars, while exotic, are more revolting than interesting. Akagi’s blue eyes are as sharp and frigid as blades of ice.

That was what first drew Sakaki in. Those eyes peered into his soul and scoffed at what they saw. From there, he only grew to realize that Akagi is a geode waiting to be shattered. Not pretty to look at, hard and rigid and dirty, but filled with mystery and fascination.

Akagi’s fingers are cold as they slide over Sakaki’s hips and loop into the straps of his _fundoshi_. He pulls the cloth apron to the side with one hand and paws at his cock with the other. Sakaki grimaces at the biting cold against such sensitive skin, but the discomfort soon fades as Akagi applies more pressure. Sakaki presses forward, backing Akagi against the rock and forcing him to arch against it.

Akagi’s lips are as flaky and cracked as Sakaki suspected, but his tongue tastes of warm, spicy poffins and it is delightful. Sakaki breaks the kiss before it even truly begins and pulls back. Like the frost during a spring morning, Akagi’s cheeks are dusted cherry pink. Sakaki could stare at this face forever without ever growing bored. Akagi scrunches his nose and narrows his eyes as the seconds tick by.

“I never stopped thinking about you. I want you to know that. I can’t imagine how horrible it must be for you, to finally see me after so long only to learn I’ve married and created an heir.”

“Your confidence is remarkable. Shirona was present during your marriage; she told me. And she told me when Silver was born. None of this is surprising.”

“Are you saying you felt nothing?”

Akagi just blinks. “No more than I ever have. I did not wallow in misery when I was forced to leave our home, nor when you moved on. I survived without your presence because I never needed you to begin with. Does this bother you, Sakaki?” He tilts his head, cold, clinical curiosity staining his expression. “That I never fell for you in the way you fell for me?”

“No. To be honest, that used to be one of my favorite things about you. You don’t get bothered by anything.” Sakaki caresses Akagi’s face. “I’m sorry. All of this came out the wrong way. I don’t regret the decisions I’ve made and I would do anything to protect the relationship I have built with Athena and Silver. When I was younger, even after you left, I hated the thought of getting married. I believed it would be constricting and oppressive, that I would be required to limit myself for the sake of another person. And, I feared that doing so would shatter any connection I had with you, both because of my duty as a husband and an act of betrayal towards you.”

“I must admit; I am not following.”

“I feel something for you, and after years of separation, I believe I will continue to feel affectionate towards you until the day I die. I’d like to have a relationship with you; I’ll take as little or as much as you’re willing to give. Casual or serious, intimate or platonic, anything you want.”

Akagi purses his lips. “Would you leave your wife and child for me?”

Sakaki jerks away, backing off until Akagi releases him. Is this a joke? What kind of person requests a man to abandon his family? He hadn’t even considered that Akagi would ask that kind of question. Sakaki doesn’t love Athena as a husband should, but they have chemistry and understanding, and together they share their darling Silver. Deplorable. He would never.

“No, not for the world.” And if Akagi pushes the subject, Sakaki will walk away and never look back.

Akagi just smiles as though they’re talking about flying and dark types. “Good. If you turned out to be a shit parent, I would pray for Giratina to smite you where you stand. Even if that caused another fucking rock to fall from the sky.” He takes Sakaki’s hands and squeezes. “I am willing to consider a relationship and work out the details of such a label with you. Similar to yourself, I am also chained down by responsibility and I request you to keep that in mind if we are to discuss this further.”

Sakaki requires a moment to process the fact Akagi didn’t immediately reject him and insist relationships are only for idiotic, emotional people. Akagi doesn’t seem to want Sakaki to be monogamous, either. “Oh, okay. That’s great.”

“Is that enough talking yet? Or will you next tell me you only fuck your wife?”

He doesn’t remember Akagi ever being so crude, but the impatience is on-brand. “Yes, yes, we can desecrate the rock now. Do you have lubrication?”

“Pot.” Akagi nudges said pot with his foot. “I did all of the real work already. I did not expect you to waste so much time conversing.”

“Time spent with you is never a waste, _Cyrus_.” Sakaki bends over to remove the cloth cover. “Tororo-jiru?” He wrinkles his nose at the smell. Not mashed yams. Sakaki dips his fingers into the slime. Boiled red algae isn’t his preference, but it’s easier to get ahold of during the winter months. He stands. “Ready?”

“Yeeeeesssssss.”

Sakaki dives in with a kiss and again presses Akagi against the rock. He wants to take his time with this, to lick and nip every inch of skin, to trace his finger against every visible bone, to edge Akagi to his limits until he loses all sense of self-restraint. He wants to worship Akagi the way Akagi deserves. He wants to make up for all of the years of separation and to make Akagi feel Sakaki’s love.

Akagi is already growing frustrated; he digs his short nails into Sakaki’s shoulders. The cold winter air permeates through their bodies and cuts the previous heat of physical exertion. Logically, Sakaki knows that they can’t spend all night out here without risking the health of their extremities. The lack of fat on Akagi means he’s even more susceptible to the cold.

Sakaki swallows his desires to take things slow and promises himself there will be time later to shower Akagi with affection. For now, he will do what is necessary to satisfy Akagi and then drag him to shelter.

Akagi turns around with little prompting. The sores and scabs on his back have opened from being scraped against the sharp edges of the rock, sticky blood oozing out and dotting his skin. Sakaki grimaces at the grisly sight. Does Akagi even have physical sensation around Giratina’s ‘gift?’ Doesn’t the pain overwhelm any pleasure? Akagi glares when Sakaki hesitates a moment too long.

To placate him, Sakaki mouths against the side of Akagi’s neck while dragging his lubed fingers down the ridges of Akagi’s spine. He curls his index into Akagi, noting a lack of protest from the ring of muscles. While Akagi claimed to already be prepared, Sakaki still focuses on stimulating the area as he slides in one, two, three fingers. Sakaki won’t run the risk of injuring Akagi. Not when his body is already littered with cruel wounds.

Akagi reaches behind himself to grope for Sakaki’s half-harden cock, helping to bring it to full erection. “Stop fondling already and fuck me.”

“As you command.” Sakaki uses the rest of the lube pooled in his hand to slick up his cock.

He enters Akagi slowly, allowing him to adjust his position and angle. Akagi lifts himself onto his tiptoes and clings to the rock to keep himself steady.

“Everything alright?” Sakaki rubs circles into Akagi’s hips with his thumbs as he slides out and sinks back in. Akagi’s body is a furnace compared to the air temperature. Sakaki imagines this is what it feels like to be a chunk of metal softening under a blacksmith’s touch.

Each breath Akagi takes wavers, even as he times them to follow Sakaki’s pattern of movement. “I am coming to the realization that my hatred for this,” he knocks his knuckles against the rock, “May have blinded me of the realities of undergoing such an action.”

“Cold?”

“...My dick hurts.”

Sakaki drags one of his hands across Akagi’s pelvic region and down to envelop his exposed cock. Sakaki immediately recognizes the problem: it was touching the cold surface of the rock. “Aww… I’ll keep you warm, honey,” he snickers and squeezes. “Better now?” Sakaki’s knuckles scrape against the shrine. It’s a discomfort he’s willing to endure for Akagi.

“Thank you, Sakaki. You may proceed.”

“Glad to have permission.” He hugs Akagi from behind, hooking his free arm around Akagi’s waist and resting his hand over Akagi’s heart.

Sakaki finds a steady rhythm as he fucks Akagi. Using his thumb and index finger, he pinches Akagi’s foreskin and rubs both it and the tip of his leaking penis. Sakaki closes his eyes and focuses on his lover’s reactions.

The chest under Sakaki’s hand rises and shudders with every breath, puffing hot, steaming air against the rock. Every so often, during a particularly deep thrust, Akagi tilts his head back further and releases small, weak noises that are drowned out by Sakaki’s groans and the smacking of skin.

It’s music to his ears. He’s forgotten about this- the quiet moments when it’s just Sakaki and Akagi in the dark with only air and skin between them. The sex is good in the way all sex is; pleasurable and hot with someone vulnerable under Sakaki’s controlling hands. Their surroundings vanish with the intense focus on a single act. Sakaki can no longer feel the cold wind clawing at his back. He no longer thinks of the problems plaguing his normal life. Arceus and Giratina could burn the world to ashes and none of it would matter, not when he bites into Akagi’s shoulder and tastes the tang of copper on his tongue.

Akagi murmurs, “Close.”

Sakaki turns his attention to inflicting as much stimulation as possible. With every thrust into Akagi, Sakaki tightens his grip on his cock, squeezing until Akagi squirms against him. He pinches and twists the hard nipple under his thumb. He huffs steaming hot air onto the back of Akagi’s neck and buries his face into Akagi’s sweaty hair.

Akagi goes silent and still under Sakaki, his locked fingers sliding streaks into the beads of moisture clinging to the rock. All of his muscles clench around Sakaki’s embedded cock. Sakaki drags his hand over Akagi’s dick and thumbs his slit. “Come for me, _Cyrus._ ” Sakaki orders. “ _Now._ ”

Akagi scrambles, his forearms catching the sharp edges and points of the rock and smearing blood against the surface. He shoves himself back against Sakaki, and in return, Sakaki hugs him tight around the middle and hugs him close. Sakaki tilts Akagi’s dick and aims down at the base of the shrine.

Once he regains feeling in his extremities, Akagi smacks Sakaki’s hand off of his oversensitive cock. Sakaki kisses the back of Akagi’s sweaty neck. “Turn around and let me see you? Please?”

Akagi huff, but he pushes himself off the rock and faces Sakaki without any vocal complaints. Sakaki grimaces at the sight of cracked scabs oozing blood along his chest; he didn’t expect so much damage in only a few minutes

Long, coarse palms cup Sakaki’s cheeks and pull him down to Akagi’s level. Frozen blue eyes pierce Sakaki. “Stop being sentimental. I am cold and if you make me wait longer than necessary, I will leave you here.”

Concern for Akagi’s questionable health is not ‘sentimentality,’ but the threat of blueballs silences him. Sakaki closes the distance and sucks on the offered lips. Akagi apparently has no intention of helping Sakaki finish himself, not with the way his body remains rigid. Sakaki reaches down between his legs and grips his cock. With Akagi still holding and kissing him, it doesn’t take long to reach his peak.

Akagi pulls away and inspects their work. Giratina’s shrine, properly desecrated, is now slathered with blood, sweat, and semen.

“Should we… clean it up or something?” Sakaki asks, sliding his bits and pieces back into his undergarments. Sakaki isn’t god-fearing. He believes in them, of course; anyone who doesn’t believe in the legendary and mythical pokemon that rule this earth are delusional fools, but he has never dedicated his life to worship. Akagi’s declaration to scorn the Other didn’t go against Sakaki’s ethos.

The concept of pissing off a god was ridiculously and recklessly sexy at the time. Now, Sakaki turns his attention to the stars above and wonders when the Other will slither out of the darkness and swallow them whole in retribution.

Akagi helpfully shrugs. “Shirona does not come out here. The rock is a few hundred years old and has yet to stain. The next time it rains, the worse will wash off.” Under his breath, he adds, “Or the bastard can come clean it itself.” Akagi makes another kicking motion, but doesn’t hit the rock with his foot. “Sakaki, grab our clothes.”

Akagi doesn’t bother covering himself. Still bloody and naked, he picks up the pot of lubricant and strides back along the path. Sakaki gathers up the clothing in his arms and follows along. The enchanting beauty of the Creator’s tree is lost within his post-orgasmic bliss. Akagi is real and here, warm flesh under Sakaki’s dull fingernails. The day before, Sakaki expected to never see Akagi again. What has he done to deserve this blessing?

His feet are numb by the time they reach the cabin. The heat cultivated by sex has all but died off, only the delightful happiness of being in Akagi’s proximity keeping Sakaki warm. Akagi opens the short wooden door and they are greeted to a smoldering fire pit. The room is toasty.

Akagi sets the pot on a shelf filled with similar clay containers. “Drop the clothes wherever. Firewood and sticks are over there, please put them in the pit.”

Sakaki squats and breathes life into the fire, warming his fingers and toes. Akagi sits next to him and uncorks a different pot. He catches Sakaki’s hand and inspects his knuckles, scraped from rubbing against the rock while protecting Akagi’s dick. “Shirona collects honey from the local combee for whenever my sores open.” Akagi dips his finger into the honey and dabs it onto Sakaki.

“It’s not deep enough to worry about.”

“I never said I was worried. It would be unfortunate for your family if this becomes an issue.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

They lapse into silence as Sakaki pokes at the fire with a stick and Akagi applies honey to everything bleeding on his body. When finished, Akagi pulls on a blood-stained robe and returns the pot to its place. “It is late. I am going to sleep.”

Sakaki blinks and watches Akagi move to the futon on the left side of the cabin. Is that it? They talk a bit, they fuck, and they go their different ways? This is no different than their interactions as youths, yet Sakaki feels… disappointed.

Time has formed a chasm in their once unshakable relationship. If Sakaki leaves now, he fears that any chance to bridge the distance will vanish. He didn’t follow Akagi tonight in hopes of sex (though it was a welcomed surprise). He followed Akagi into the shrouded darkness of the woods because he hasn’t seen the man he once considered a close friend in years, and that is a tragedy in itself.

Unfair doesn’t begin to describe Akagi’s situation. Yes, he’s an emotionless jackass. Yes, he’s made more enemies than allies. Yes, he has more faults than attributes. But if Sakaki, who has traveled Japan and made a name for himself by being mercilessly cruel when required, is blessed by the Creator with a decent marriage and a beautiful, healthy son, then Akagi deserves more than the misfortune brought on by the Other.

Sakaki once accepted Akagi’s disappearance too easily. He won’t make the same mistake again.

He rubs his index over his scabbed knuckles, calming himself over the stinging burn as he thinks. Appealing to emotions will get him nowhere. Akagi has always been particularly selfish, but that might have changed since he gained the responsibility of honoring the Other.

The truth is, Sakaki doesn’t know how to handle Akagi, and Sakaki is unfamiliar with feeling so out of control. When he admitted how much he missed Akagi, Akagi never returned the statement. Another attempt at conveying his emotions will leave him vulnerable to crushing rejection.

Akagi is already in bed, bundled under thick arcanine and mamoswine pelts. Only his eyes are visible as he watches Sakaki. His face is obscured and Sakaki can’t see his expression; he can’t see if Akagi is impatient or irritated or confused or dreading.

This is just like a battle, his persian already worn down from one too many hits, his opponents resolute and unshakable. Only, this is just Sakaki and Akagi, and instead of injured from fighting, they are both fatigued from sex and lack of sleep.

Akagi breaks the silence. “It is best if you leave now.” His voice is muffled.

Sakaki contemplates snatching up an ember from the fire and throwing it at Akagi’s bundled form. “Best for who?”

“You.” Akagi tugs on the blankets and completely hides. “While it is not uncommon to stay out late and participate in merriment after a festival, your wife will miss you come sunrise.”

Ah. So Akagi isn’t bitter at all. For someone who claims to be detached and uncaring, Akagi is shockingly passive-aggressive. Sakaki wobbles between amusement at Akagi’s possessiveness and irritated that Akagi has resorted to such a tactic rather than talking like a normal person. “She’d string me up by my thumbs if I risked waking up Silver.” He pauses as he considers his next statement. “And Athena might resort to murder if she has to endure another three years of listening to me pine over you.”

Akagi uncovers his head to reveal narrowed eyes and wild hair. “Explain yourself.”

“Believe it or not, I have no intention of breaking my vows during a night of passion-“ Akagi snorts at the description, “Only to beg for forgiveness the next morning. My marriage is an obligation rather than a relationship bound by love. Contractually, I am only required to keep any children we may produce healthy and safe. So long as you aren’t actively threatening Silver, she doesn’t care.”

“I find that difficult to believe.”

Sakaki scoots over to Akagi and pries the blankets away to properly see him. “She has always known that if you were to enter my life again, I would do everything in my power to rekindle what we once had. I tried to tell you this earlier. I love my wife, but it is that of a candle flame compared to the inferno I feel towards you. I want to be with you. Regardless of what you’re willing to give, I will gladly take it.”

“And if I want nothing to do with you?” Akagi’s face betrays nothing, but if he was serious, he would have already forced Sakaki out.

“Well, I’d be displeased and disappointed… But I’d respect your wishes and would likely only interact if I see you at festivals.” And Athena will just have to deal with Sakaki’s endless bitching. Sakaki adds, “You’ve been the Other’s Chosen for years, and you’ve somehow avoided every ceremony I’ve attended until today. If you truly hate me that much, you can continue avoiding me.”

Akagi goes flush and sits up, hanging his head to hide the blush but the red ears are a dead giveaway. He digs his fingers into the thick fur of the pelts. “Not avoiding. Just… ‘displeased and disappointed’ with the situation. I apologize if I gave you the impression that I was specifically targeting my ire at you.”

“I’m just happy you’re alive.” Sakaki omits how personally he took Akagi’s original disappearance. To lose such a close friend was nothing short of devastating. Sakaki left the region not long after, because if Akagi ever returned, he wanted Akagi to understand the pain of abandonment, just as he felt. It’s for the best Akagi stayed away for so long; Sakaki has matured over the years of absence and no longer detests Akagi.

Sakaki slides his finger under Akagi’s chin and uses it to raise his head. Moving slowly, giving Akagi plenty of time to protest, Sakaki leans forward and captures his lips. He gives Akagi a single kiss. It’s too late and he’s too old to become worked up all over again, and if they are to stay awake, then he wishes to continue to conversation.

Akagi is attractive, even in the absence of beauty. His thin, pale eyebrows furrow as he contemplates. Sakaki desires nothing more than to pin Akagi down to his soft futon and chase away every thought muddling up his brain, but… There’s a time and place for everything. He’s content to admire Akagi’s features for the sake of any upcoming fantasies.

Akagi makes eye contact and holds it. “I am duty-bound to Giratina, and even if I hate it, running from responsibility will only force it upon another undeserving of the horrific honor.” He grimaces, “For a time, Shirona and I feared Hikari would fall to the Other instead of being blessed by the Creator. The uncertainty was worse than anything I have ever experienced. I would die a traitor’s death before allowing someone else to be consumed in such a way.”

Sakaki places his hand over Akagi’s. He was away when it happened, but Hikari was from his village and his people still mourn her loss. “I can’t fully comprehend, but I will never ask or expect you to go against what you believe to be necessary. If there’s anything I can do to help lessen the burden, tell me and I will do my best to succeed.”

“It was wrong of me to suggest you abandon the life you created.”

“I won’t lie and say it didn’t feel like a slap in the face, but I know you didn’t say it to hurt me.”

“You will put the child, Silver, above me? Without question?”

“That is not up for debate.”

Akagi drops his gaze and nods. “Ever go back on that, and I will have you dead before you get the chance.” The threat is similar to what he said before. It’s relieving to know that Akagi is taking Silver’s welfare seriously. Sakaki shouldn’t be surprised, not after the childhood Akagi grew up enduring, but Akagi is not the caring type. “I would also like to speak with your wife before committing to anything.”

“Athena? She might be hesitant because of the whole Other thing, but I could probably talk her into it. Why?”

“Insurance.” Akagi sighs, “At this rate, dawn will break before either of us sleep, and I have to prepare for the New Year’s ritual early. You may stay as long as you are not distracting, and tomorrow I will make time so that we may talk more on the subject.”

Sakaki can’t help it; he kisses Akagi again. Akagi lightly shoves Sakaki away.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?”

Exasperated, Akagi rolls his eyes, but he raises the edge of the blanket for Sakaki to slip under. Sakaki wraps his arm around Akagi’s waist and kisses the back of his neck. “I love you, _Cyrus_.”

Long after they’ve curled together under the blankets and the fire has burned down to glowing embers, Akagi speaks. “I missed you too, Sakaki. I pray to the Gods that we are never separated again.”

Sakaki smiles into Akagi’s hair and hugs him tighter.


End file.
